


Under Wraps

by tisfan



Series: MCU Kink Bingo [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Bottom!Nat, F/F, Forced Orgasm, Mention Switching, Mild Humiliation, Mild sensory deprivation, Mocking, Mummification, Power Exchange, Sensation Play, Sex Toys, Spanking, Tickling, Vibrators, bargain bondage, bratty sub, dildo, implied public BDSM, mention of pillory, mention of pony play, mention of public humiliation, petulance, sensory wheel, top!Melinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 14:06:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12583532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Melinda and Natasha power play; Can Nat free herself from Melinda’s bondage and erotic torture in time, or will she have to endure even more, at the local dungeon, as agreed? Melinda’s got something special in store for her bratty-Nat.





	Under Wraps

**Author's Note:**

> MCU Kink Bingo, Square N1

“Pink? _Really_?” Nat stared at the bondage bed in disgust, her nose wrinkling up.

“Of course,” Melinda said. “You gonna quit now, baby girl?”

Nat glared. Of course she wasn’t, not this early. She wasn’t even partially undressed yet. “No,” she said. “Is there some reason for pink?”

“You hate it, and it goes horribly with your hair,” Melinda responded. “Take your clothes off, put your collar on, and pick three things on the tray that you don’t want.”

The room was a bit chillier than normal, something her breasts noticed immediately upon being released from the confines of her bra -- superbra as Melinda called it sometimes, because bobbling along while doing spy work was painful and embarrassing. Also, Stark had reinforced it with antiballistic fibers, a couple of hidden pockets where she kept razor and wire weapons. And it was traceable, although she’d disabled that more than once. She didn’t need Stark knowing where she was all the time. It was easy enough to reenable, which was probably his plan to start with, if she needed an extraction.  

Melinda was never careless with the temperature of her playroom, so if Nat was already chilly, Melinda had something sweat-inducing planned. Nat studied the tray of devices and toys with a careful eye. Of the dozen options, Nat removed the cupping glasses and matches, (the last time she and Melinda had played with those, sitting had been uncomfortable for almost a week, and Fury did love his meetings), the enormous pink dildo (bad enough that Melinda had dressed the bed up with pink sheets, she didn’t need any more pink, thankyouverymuch), and the vibrating anal beads (also pink, Melinda, what the hell, even?).

That left a paddle, the dildo harness, the sensation wheel, a bullet vibe, a stack of clothes pins, a feather, a candle, and the e-stim wand. Nat concealed an anticipatory shudder; Melinda meant to have her screaming tonight. Just what the doctor ordered.

“All ready?” Melinda held out the blindfold. “It’ll take me half an hour to get you prepped. When the buzzer goes off the first time, I’ll reset for an hour. Standard rules apply. If you get out before your hour’s up--”

“Your ass is mine, Melinda Mays,” Nat said. “Full pony get-up. At the dungeon. All night.”

Melinda groaned. The Cavalry joke was old, humiliating, and Nat _loved_ it. Both of them were bratty-as-hell subs, and showing that Nat had absolute, utter control over Melinda Mays, even if just for an evening? That satisfied the other half of Nat’s personality. “And if you don’t get out? The pillory.”

Nat concealed a second shudder. The pillory -- in essence a public spanking at the dungeon, by anyone who was a member and wanted to play -- pushed all the right buttons. She would be indignant and humiliated for the first hour, but over time, she’d let all the walls come down. Let herself be vulnerable, and then when that wore out, she’d actually _be_ vulnerable. The mere thought of the pain, the mortification of being spanked, _naked_ , by men and women she knew, who knew who she was, forced to cry and plead, sent a curl of desperate heat through her belly. The last time she let Melinda pillory her, she’d ridden that high for almost two weeks before she was back on her knees in front of her Domme, begging for more.

“Agreed.”

“Come over here, then, and I want your arms like this,” Melinda said, demonstrating. One arm behind her back, palm out, the other just under her breasts, fingers cupped around her ribs.

Melinda opened the plastic tub at her feet and instead of the myriad coils of rope or jangle of cuffs and spreaders, she pulled out a long strip of torn, _wet_ bedsheet. She wrapped one end of the sheet around Nat’s wrist and started winding, tugging her arm taut and then wrapping the sheet around Nat’s bare belly. It was cold and uncomfortable and the material was vaguely stretchy. But seriously what the hell? Even with terrible leverage, Nat could tear cloth, if she could get a single thread to pull free. Melinda wasn’t even binding her hands. Maybe she wanted to spend an evening with her harness on, proud breasts out, jingling with her stylized prancing gait.

Melina mummy-wrapped her, binding her arms to her sides with more strips of wet cloth, leaving just enough of a gap over her chest to let her nipples jut through -- no wonder the room was cold! -- and all the way up until her collar was covered, until her hair was plastered down to her head. Melinda left her nose and mouth open, but wrapped her eyes as well.

“Check in,” Melinda said, and that was muffled, thanks to the cloth over her ears.

“Bring it, Mays,” Nat said, all bravado.

“Great,” Melinda said. She licked one stiff nipple, teasing the other one with a finger, then blew cold air, making them contract into almost painfully sharp points. Desperately sensitive.

There was a whir, then, of something electrical, and warm air blew at her. Her brain stuttered for a moment, then. “A hair dryer?”

“Uh-huh,” Melinda said. “Hold still, baby, I got some time left on the clock.”

It took her a few minutes to realize what was happening; the warm, drying air was making the mummy wrap tighter, more constricting. Stiff. Where previously she could flex her hand, wiggle her shoulder, now, she couldn’t move her upper body at all. It was like… a pair of jeans, fresh out of the clothes dryer.

_Fuck._

Melinda moved her, then, over to the bed, and finished the wrap. Her legs were pinned together all the way from ankle to thigh, leaving her pussy bare and vulnerable.

Strong as a linebacker, Melinda lifted her and placed Nat on the bed, on her back. Got her scooched all the way down to the edge of the mattress and then bent her hips, so Nat was face up, with her feet in the air, knees slightly bent, ankles resting on one of the retraining bars. Melinda used a few of the sheet strips to tie her thighs in place. A few more minutes with the blow dryer, and Nat was locked in place, bare feet vulnerable to all of Melinda’s plans, her ass on display, as well as her pussy.

“All right honey,” Melinda said, low in her ear. “Your hour starts now. I’ll give you a few minutes, see how you like it.”

She tried to flex her fingers. No go. The most she was able to manage on a preliminary examination of her bindings was to rock her upper body a little, to arch her back.

“Hmmm. Well, little spider, you seem to be all wrapped up,” Melinda teased. Nat could hear her moving, felt pressure on the bed as Melinda put her hand on the bed. Then she was down by Nat’s feet, finger running up and down the sole. “Want to try a little harder to escape, before I get started in earnest?”

A moment later there was just the faintest _whirr_ of sound and Melinda tucked the bullet vibe, set on its lowest setting, against her clit, the little cord a soft pressure against her belly. A squeeze of her belly, under the wrappings; Melinda fastened the cord with one of the clothes pins, the pin biting in at the skin, pressure and a bit of pain. “Don’t move too much, baby, or it’ll swing wide and you won’t feel _anything_.”

Well, that was a lie. Nat cleared her mind, let the vibe do its thing, buzzing spitefully against her skin, and twitched her muscles, starting at the shoulders and working her way down, testing the restraints, seeing if there was--

_Smack._

The paddle hit her ass, causing her to jump. She hadn’t expected it, although she probably should have. The muffling effect of the wrappings kept her from hearing much, so she wasn’t sure what Melinda was up to. The vibe settled back in place.

_Smack._

Each blow overlapped the previous, patterning her ass with bright, hot spots of sensation. She was just getting into the rhythm, hips flexing in her few, precious millimeters, swinging the vibe at just the right angle -- even if she couldn’t get free, coming this early would be a point, and if she could just--

The paddle disappeared, replaced by the feather, drawing long, ticklish, tantalizing strokes over her abused ass and greedy cunt. She twitched, giggled, tried to shift her hips to get that feather point right where she wanted it.

“Cootchy coo,” Melinda said. “Ticklish little Nattie.”

Oh, god, Nat _hated_ babytalk. She was fine with threats or insults. Being humiliated and verbally abused had little to no effect on her, but being condescended to? And it made her squirm uncomfortably. Made the ticklish effect of the feather worse as Melinda told her how pretty and how tickly her cunt was, how much she loved watching little baby Nattie squirm around, helpless and vulnerable, and so so--

“Not my feet, don’t you fucking _dare_!”

Melinda ignored her and then Nat was squirming in earnest, trying to get away from that damn feather, trying--

“Oh, look, the vibe’s come loose, let me fix that.”

Nat collapsed, all her muscles going limp as Melinda stopped torturing her for a few minutes, and then a finger, lubed and slick, pressed into her pussy, making her slippery. Melinda slid the harness dildo inside, filling her up. Then, oh, _fuck_ , no. The bullet vibe was locked in place, firm and unmoving, against her clit, and Melinda locked the harness around her hips.

“Buzzy buzzy,” Melinda said. She moved again and suddenly the vibe was at top speed and power, cheerfully abusing Nat’s clit, dragging her closer and closer and--

The sensation wheel traveled over Nat’s nipples. How the hell was Melinda moving that fast? And then her stiff, aching nipples were teased with the feather, tickling, erotic, distracting. She couldn’t concentrate enough to get that vibe to do its thing, every time she thought she was close, Melinda was tickling her with that feather!

“Look at that,” Melinda said, coy and cute and aggravating as hell. “Nat’s boobies are ticklish. Maybe I’ll do that for my whole hour.”

Oh. _God_.

Nat’s brain whited out for a moment at that thought. She’d been spanked before, hours at a time. Edged. Forced to come repeatedly until she was a shaking, sweaty mess. Had a e-stim shock her feet and neck and breasts. But tickling her until she was sobbing? She wasn’t sure she could handle that.

“No, no, no, no,” she begged, tugging desperately at her bindings, whole body shivering and shifting as she tried to find a vulnerability in her bondage before--

She arched up, screaming. The bullet vibe was unrelenting, pressed right up against her, and she came, almost sobbing, as every muscle in her body shuddered and shook and shattered.

Even after coming, Nat’s muscles aching and juddering with sensation, the wrappings hadn’t loosened at all. She struggled, but she couldn’t find even the start of a weak point.

“Huh,” Melinda said, licking at Nat’s gaping mouth. “Ten minutes, dearie me. That’s all? I’m going to have so, so much fun tonight.”

Ten minutes? Oh, fucking hell.

She was going to be begging for mercy in less than half an hour, as stretched and distorted as time was while she was sense-deprived and suffering.

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
